


all that you love will be carried away

by GoddessEris00



Series: Danny Heals 'verse [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-16
Updated: 2011-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-26 03:25:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessEris00/pseuds/GoddessEris00
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny's talents do not go unnoticed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all that you love will be carried away

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from the Stephen King story of the same name.

Steve rolls over in bed. Danny is sitting next to him, supported by a few pillows propped against the headboard. The soft light of dawn is beginning to push its way through the curtains, edging his partner's body with a pale glow. He is within arms length but seems somehow remote, staring off at nothing that Steve can see.

Danny is on top of the covers, which is a little odd since Steve is still tucked under them and Danny rarely gets up first. He is also naked, however, which Steve can fully get behind.

Steve reaches over and slowly ghosts a hand up Danny's hip, feeling the temperature difference between the warmth of his palm and Danny's cooler skin, and smiles when the shorter man turns to look down at him.

"That feels good," he says.

"So do you," replies Steve, which would normally garner him an eye-roll at the least but this time gets only the ghost of a smile. Still, touching Danny's skin, usually so covered by layers of "professionalism," exploring the different parts of his body: the smooth, the rough, the areas dusted lightly with hair or spattered with freckles-- this is a privilege that Steve tries to exercise as often as possible and he has no intention of stopping yet.

Shifting himself onto one elbow, Steve slides his hand up from Danny's hip, then pauses as he reaches his ribcage. He is surprised, unpleasantly so, to note that he can feel every one of his partner's ribs. Danny has never been fat by any stretch of the word, but the thin layer of nothing that Steve feels between Danny's skin and the bones beneath is worrisome.

"You're getting thinner," says Steve, unable to hide the concern in his voice, the dismay that something like this might have snuck up on him... because surely he should have noticed before now.

Danny looks away from him, returning his concentration to the far wall.

"I'm okay," he replies after a moment and Steve doesn't remember agreeing-- ever-- that they could lie to each other.

Sitting up now, trying not to wreck the stillness in the room with his hopefully groundless unease, Steve leans over his partner and presses soft kisses up his chest, focusing on every rib and working his way inward at an angle until he makes it to the sternum and then further up to the collarbone-- which now that he is paying attention, also juts out sharply under too pale skin.

There is no way to avoid the increased apprehension that fills Steve as he slides one arm around Danny's side, up under his armpit and onto his back, tracing the knobs of his spine before settling just behind his shoulder, and pulling the two of them closer together so that he can rub his face into the crook of Danny's neck, feel the rasp of their stubble, and breathe in the warmth he finds there.

"You and my neck," says Danny, which should make Steve feel better, like the situation is normal because Danny always claims that Steve's obsession with nuzzling and kissing Danny's neck and throat is unnatural; it is a long-standing joke between them. Except Danny doesn't sound gently mocking, he sounds wistful and quiet, and that isn't normal at all.

"Danny," says Steve, and he feels how his fingers are digging into his partner's back, hard enough to hurt, probably hard enough to leave bruises, but the usually vocal man says nothing and Steve can't help but grab at him more tightly.

"Danny," he says again, more desperately. "What's going on?" and Danny sighs a little, finally raises his arms to surround Steve in kind. He lets them rest lightly on his back and shifts so that his head falls onto Steve's shoulder, heavily, like it has become too much to hold up.

"It's going to be over soon," he murmurs into Steve's skin, like a secret or maybe a promise. "It has to be. One way or another," and none of that makes sense to Steve, nor is it comforting to hear.

Steve clutches Danny tighter still, thinking he must be about to draw blood with the way his nails are digging into Danny's skin but he can't let go. He is trying somehow to squeeze an answer out of Danny, something to explain all his fears away, or maybe just keep hold of him, keep him so close that they are one person, so close he can absorb his partner into himself and finally replace this gnawing, unreasonable fear that has been digging at him since he first woke up this morning. It is important, he can feel, that he not let go.

Steve rolls over in bed. The space next to him is empty. It has been for 34 days.

~*~*~

 _Day 1_

Danny is taken on a Tuesday. The team is in-between cases and had been at loose ends for over a week, leading to a lot of stir-crazy shenanigans. When it becomes obvious to Danny that Steve and Kono really _are_ planning to hold an ultimate, mixed martial arts, boxing match... thing in order to determine "the ultimate champion" (it had started with arm-wrestling and gone steadily downhill from there, although Chin was now the undisputed king of thumb wars) he finally steps in, volunteering both Steve and himself to go pick up lunch. You know, from that great deli on the _other_ side of town.

So they are out and driving and while Steve pouts for the first few miles Danny doesn't think that it is a thwarted adrenaline rush that has Steve suddenly checking his mirrors every few seconds and pulling some rapid lane changes.

"What's with the evasive manuevers, babe?" he asks.

"That silver SUV," replies Steve absently as they careen around a corner. "I’m pretty sure I saw it last week, too. I think it's tailing us."

"Weird," and there is no doubt in his voice, no insinuation that Steve is being overly paranoid, just an instant acceptance of the situation, which kind of makes Steve want to pull over and paw at Danny in a very not-safe-for-work way. They don't try to hide their relationship from anyone, they never have, but Steve knows that Danny appreciates any and all efforts to maintain a certain level of professionalism while at work, so he decides to take a mental rain check on groping his partner and refocuses on the car behind him.

"I'm going to head towards a less populated area, just in case," he says and Danny hums in approval, pulling out his sidearm and giving it a once over before re-holstering.

As they head away from the center of town, Steve slows down and cuts back on the slalom moves as they are trying to draw the car out, not lose it. Still, it is a surprise, and an anticlimactic one at that, when the SUV casually overtakes them at a moderate pace. Both men, of course, try to look into the car as it drives by, but the heavily tinted windows make it too difficult to see the occupants.

They drive on for about a mile in this new, reversed order when the SUV suddenly pulls over onto the shoulder, hazards flashing.

"I don’t have a good feeling about this," says Danny as they pull up behind the other car, Steve angling the wheels of the Camaro for a quick get away if necessary.

"Maybe it’s just a coincidence," suggests Steve, but his fingers are tight on the wheel and he stares through the windshield at the car like he hopes to spontaneously manifest x-ray vision in the next few minutes. "Some out-of-towners that don’t know where they’re going."

"It’s not a rental," points out Danny, "and besides—coincidence? Not where you’re concerned, babe. It’d take more than two hands to count off all your enemies; I’d have to kick off my shoes, too. Not everyone finds you as charming as I do."

"I—was that a compliment or not?" asks Steve, but Danny is calling in the license plate number and their location, and just shoots him a smirk.

"Alright, let’s roll," says Danny after hanging up, "we can’t expect them to wait forever."

The two emerge from the car. Danny pulls out his gun and holds it low and ready, covering Steve as he approaches the SUV.

"HPD," Steve calls out. "Do you need assistance?"

There is no answer from the car-- all the windows are up and the engine continues to idle, but over the noise of the engine Steve hears his partner hiss sharply behind him.

"The fuck?" says Danny, and Steve spins around to see him with one hand up at his neck and a bemused expression on his face. He pulls his hand away and Steve can see what looks like a dart resting in his palm for an instant before Danny fall heavily onto his knees, gun slipping out of his suddenly useless fingers.

"Danny," he cries out, and hurries towards his partner.

"Steve," whispers Danny with dread growing in his eyes. "Run! Get--"

It is too late. Steve feels the rush of wind and slight sting in his neck seconds before reaching Danny, who has now fallen all the way over onto his side. Steve yanks out the dart as quickly as possible, but the damage is already done.

Steve’s vision blurs and his hands feel slow and clumsy as he grabs at Danny’s shirt and tries to shake him awake.

"Got to.. get up… Danny," he slurs, his movements becoming slower and slower as the drug overtakes him. "Got to… move."

Steve slumps over his partner, hands still loosely tangled in his shirt. His muscles are useless and his vision is darkening, but he is positioned with his head turned towards the trees by the side of the road, and it affords him the indistinct sight of a group of armed and camouflaged men sliding out of the shadows and heading towards them.

He thinks: _trap._ He thinks: _definitely military_. And finally, with anguish he thinks: _Danny, I’m sorry,_ and _what have I gotten you into?_

It is only when he wakes up later and gets the story from Chin and Kono—how he was found, alone, by the side of the road with nothing but the Camaro for company—that he finally realizes it isn’t about him at all.

~*~*~

 _Day 6_

"It was a military operation, Catherine, don’t tell me you can’t find anything!" Steve snarls into the phone.

He is unsurprised when she hangs up on him. He has been calling her every day, harassing her for information despite the fact that she had already agreed to look into it and would call him if she got anywhere.

One part of him acknowledges that expecting his ex-lover to put herself and her career at risk by looking into the disappearance of his current lover is asking for rather a lot. But he trusts Catherine; their sexual relationship had always been about scratching an itch, no more, no less. Their work relationship, however, had been forged in blood and fire and dangerous missions. Despite the recent evidence of corruption and instability in first Nick and then Harwin, he does still trust Catherine. He has no choice; there are no other leads.

Tire tracks at the scene of the abduction and the fact that Danny called in a license plate number prove that the other car did exist, but not much else. The number didn't show up in the DMV database; it wasn't registered to anything.

Both HPD and 5-0 have gone over the area extensively, and were unable to find anything more than a few flattened patches of scrub in the copse Steve claimed that the abductors came out of, but no darts, no signs of a struggle. Not even a cigarette butt or candy wrapper. Nothing but Steve's word on what happened and a few traces of midozolam in his blood.

It has been nearly a week and Steve isn't just getting desperate, he's getting feral. He barely sleeps and when he does he has muddled dreams, tangled webs of his father's death and missions gone wrong. Not of Danny, though, not so far. Danny is missing even in his dreams.

 _Day 16_

Chin and Kono are supportive; of course they are. They want Danny back, too; their friend and co-worker, their _ohana_. Only, it's been over two weeks and they are no closer to finding Danny than they were on day one, and Steve is focused on nothing else. Crime has not ceased on the island since Danny was abducted, and there are only so many cases they can push back to HPD and excuses they can give the govenor.

"Steve," Kono raps softly on the door jamb as she stands in his doorway.

Steve pulls himself away from the map he has been staring at for the past hour.

"Kono," he says, "There's a warehouse about five miles from where it happened. I'm going to go check it out."

"Steve," she says again, but softly. "We already looked there. It's just storage for spare parts. For airplanes, remember?"

He frowns. "Airplanes? Are you saying they could have flown out from there?"

"Not a hangar, Steve, just extra parts," she replies. "Listen, the governor wants to talk to you."

Steve shakes his head. "I don't have time, I want to finish cross-checking these locations and then drive out to a few of them. Tell her I'm out of the office."

"That's not going to work, Steve."

"Why not?" he says, eyes straying back down to the map. "Tell her whatever you want."

"I look forward to hearing what you come up with, Officer Kalakaua."

Shit. Steve looks up quickly to see the governor standing behind Kono, who looks half apologetic and half exasperated before she quickly ducks out of the way.

The governor enters the office, closing the door firmly behind her and taking a seat across from Steve, who definitely looks the worse for wear in a wrinkled shirt with several days worth of stubble on his face.

"Govenor, I apologize," he begins, "it's just... I think I may--"

She holds up a hand to stop him, and he falls silent.

"Go home, Lieutenant Commander McGarrett," she says after a moment.

"What? You can't be serious."

"I am quite serious," she says, leaning forward. "Steve... you can't keep this up."

"I can't believe this-- you're kicking me off the task force for trying to solve a kidnapping?" Steve is irate. He grips the arms of his chair in an attempt not to jump up and scream at the govenor of Hawaii.

"I'm not kicking you off the force," she says and then pauses as if considering the wisdom of her next words. When she speaks again, Steve has to grit his teeth against the sympathy in her voice.

"I know what Detective Williams was-- is to you. More than just a partner. I'm very sorry, for... for these circumstances. But Steve, you're not doing him any good right now. You're not doing your _team_ any good. You're certainly not doing Hawaii any good, and that's what I hired you for."

Steve sits in stony silence across from her, refusing to acknowledge the truth of her words.

"I still want you in charge of this task force," she continues. "I'm not even going to tell you to stop investigating your partner's disappearance-- I'm not that foolish. But first you need to take a few days off. Do whatever you need to do: scream, cry, punch a hole in the wall. Think about what Dectective Williams would have wanted. Would he want you to ignore your duty, to--"

"Don't talk about him," barks Steve, harshly. "Please."

The govenor sighs.

"Go home, Steve. Come back on Monday ready to lead this team, or don't come back at all."

And, feeling raw and torn and defeated, Steve does go home. He returns to his empty house with its empty rooms and empty bed, and he finds a bottle of something and heads to the beach and drinks until it is empty too.

"You're partying without me?"

Steve turns to see Danny sitting next to him. This is odd for some reason that Steve can't quite remember. The bottle of Jack still hanging loosely from his fingers might have something to do with that.

He lifts the bottle towards his partner, then frowns when he sees that it is empty.

"Sorry, Danny," he says apologetically, but his partner just shrugs.

"I forgive you," he says easily but Steve is suddenly struck with a wave of remorse completely out of proportion with finishing off Danny's whiskey.

"I'm so sorry," he says again, astonished to find that he is tearing up, and Danny is right next to him then, so that they are sitting shoulder to shoulder.

"It's not your fault Steve," he says emphatically. "Remember that, if nothing else."

"What... what do you mean?" he asks in confusion, leaning against his partner, dropping his head onto Danny's shoulder which is so handily in the right spot to use as a pillow.

"Doesn't matter," says Danny softly. "Hey, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," murmurs Steve, his eyes sliding shut as he relaxes against Danny. He feels like he hasn't slept in a while, but it's probably just the booze making him so tired. Why had he drunk so much?

"Can you check on Gracie for me?"

"Of course," says Steve because how ridiculous of Danny to have to ask. Steve loves Grace almost as much as he loves Danny. "We can go see her tomorrow."

"Thanks," says Danny so softly that Steve barely hears it. "Danno loves you both, you know."

Steve wakes up abruptly as he takes a header into the sand.

"No," he whispers, righting himself and looking up and down the beach, knowing that it is useless. Danny was never there at all.

 _Day 28_

"Did you have another dream last night?"

"What?" snaps Steve at Kono and her out of nowhere question, who holds up her palms in the universal sign for "chill out."

"Asked and answered," she mutters, and Steve narrows his eyes.

"I didn't-- I didn't tell you about those dreams so you could make fun of me," he says shortly.

"Whose making fun?" she asked. "I just noticed that... you tend to be a little more on edge after you've had one."

"Yeah, sorry," he sighs, rubbing his hand over his face wearily. "I just... when I'm in the dream it feels-- not right. Like, I know something is wrong. But it feels real, too. And then I wake up and I can remember every detail of it, and it's like... it's like I'm losing him again. Over and over."

Kono squeezes his shoulder lightly.

"What did you talk about this time?"

Steve chuckles wanly. "He reminded me to take out the trash."

Kono hesitates, and then asks: "Do you think it's just your subconscious, playing tricks on you, or," she takes a deep breath, "do you think Danny is actually contacting you?"

"What?" Steve pulls away from her. "I'm not crazy," he contests hotly, looking everywhere but at her.

"Steve, calm down," says Kono, trying hard to resist the urge to grab and shake her highly volatile boss. She didn't go through police academy training in order to become a pychologist, that was for sure. "I'm just saying, I know Danny was... special."

"What?" says Steve again like it is the only word he knows.

Kono looks pointedly at her leg, which healed without even leaving a scar, and Steve sighs.

"I don't know if it's really him, or if I just want it to be," he admits. "That," he waves towards her leg, "isn't exactly the same as dream-walking."

She raises her eyebrow at the term and he flushes slightly. "I looked it up."

"If it's him..." Kono trails off, thinking of the possibilities.

"Then he's still alive, wherever he is. But he's not giving me any clues, unless I'm being especially dense and "garbage" is code for something."

Steve shakes his head. "If I'm just making it all up..."

"You're not crazy," Kono assures him.

"I feel like I'm failing him, like I'm letting him down. Grace, too. God, it's getting harder and harder to visit her and have no answers."

"Steve..." Kono doesn't know what to say. It is not just Steve who feels like a failure.

"I know. Sorry," he says, and she can see how he tries to reign in his emotions and focus back on the present. "We'd better get back to work before the govenor stops by to give me another lecture."

 _Day 36_

Steve is having trouble sleeping again, which is actually pretty normal these days. His bouts of insomnia come and go, but it is especially frustrating this time because he wants quite desperately to dream of Danny. The last one he had-- Danny's nearly emaciated frame and cryptic comments about it coming to an end-- have filled him with foreboding.

Whether Steve was just having very vivid dreams or whether Danny had in fact found a way to visit him, Danny's final words sounded ominous. They sounded like one of them was giving up, and there was just no way that Steve is letting go of his partner, accepting that he was just gone now and never coming back.

Since he can't sleep he is sitting at the kitchen table, digging through the files he had put together, trying to make sense of what little information they had been able to find.

He is confused when he hears the front door open, but when moments later Danny steps into the kitchen his confusion slides into relief. He is asleep, finally, and dreaming of Danny again.

They stare across the room at each other, and Danny says: "you look like shit, babe," and Steve says, "so do you," and there is another pause because...

Because Danny is standing there, swaying a little on his feet like he could collapse at anytime, and Steve saw him walk in when normally he's just suddenly _there_.

Because Steve knows that he is dreaming, except that in his dreams he is always sure that he is awake.

Because Danny is standing there, standing in Steve's kitchen after being gone, after being missing for _36 fucking days_. Standing and staring like he isn't even sure if he's going to be welcome.

The sound of the chair hitting the ground is loud in the room but Steve doesn't care about anything but getting to Danny _rightfuckingnow_.

He pulls Danny into his arms and feels immediately all the sharp angles of his bones and an intense heat like he's running a fever, and all those dreams that felt so real pale in comparison to this. Danny feels fragile but also solid in Steve's arms, and the dampness of Danny's tears as they soak into Steve's shirt is real, too.

Danny is back and Steve doesn't know where he's been or what happened to him to make him look so weak and sick, and it doesn't even matter because Danny is back and Steve is holding him and nothing can make him let go now.

"Steve," says Danny. "Can we go see Grace?"

And Steve blinks back tears of his own and says: "First thing tomorrow," because it is 3 o'clock in the morning.

Danny nods against his chest, accepting this, and they stand, holding each other up until it is finally time to go.

~*~*~

"I'm sorry, Steve, but I already told you. It's classified."

Steve would have previously assumed that Danny, should he ever have the opportunity to throw an "it's classified" at him, would have done so with great glee. This is not the case, apparently, as Danny looks apologetically at his partner.

Danny has been back for two weeks and is starting to look more like his old self, putting back on some of the weight he had lost and a little more color in his cheeks. He had refused to go to the hospital or see a psychiatrist, despite both Steve and Rachel's strenuous objections. He has also refused to talk about the time he was missing, which drives Steve crazy. He needs to know what happened to his partner so that he can protect him from it ever happening again.

"How can it be classified? You're not even in the military."

"First of all, Steve, the term "classified" does not only apply to the military," says Danny.

"And are you going to finish that omelet?"

Steve immediately pushes his plate over to Danny, happy that his appetite is coming back. Still he refuses to be distracted.

"So what's second?"

"Hmm?" Danny looks up with a mouthful of egg.

"You said 'first of all,' meaning that you have a second point."

"I must have been mistaken," says Danny.

"Danny!"

"Steve, listen," says Danny and he is pleading with Steve to understand. "I can't talk about it. I just... okay, I shouldn't even say this much, but... we-- I was not discreet. About the things I can do, okay?"

Steve nods slowly. He had suspected something like that, but was not going to interrupt Danny now when he was finally willing to talk.

"So," continues Danny, "someone found out, and someone else had... a need, for my particular thing. And an inability to ask nicely."

"Jesus, Danny," Steve finally bursts out, "how can you joke about this?"

Danny sighs. "Please calm down and act less like I'm telling you information that is _classified, Steven_."

"Sorry," Steve sits back and tries to look relaxed. They are in their own home, but Steve knows better than to think that means they are not being observed.

"So they had a thing that they needed me to do with my particular thing... this is too many things," Danny says. He contemplates the remains of breakfast for a minute, then says: "Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything anyway, and don't you think we should go have sex?"

Steve blinks at his partner. He is somewhat ashamed to notice that this rather blatant change of subject immediately awakens a certain part of his anatomy. Still, he tries to repress his biological urges.

"Danny, that's not going to work," he says. "I need to know--"

"You need to ravish me, that's what you need," replies Danny, getting up from the table. "Or am I no longer attractive to you?" and even though he knows he is being played, there is just enough doubt edged in Danny's voice that Steve jumps up from the table, crossing over to him and pulling him into a deep kiss.

"What do you think?" he demands, sliding a hand up Danny's back under his shirt.

"We should take this to the bedroom, is what I think," he says, then yelps as Steve deftly flips him up and into his arms.

"Oh, my god, you are not carrying me bridal style into the bedroom, you neanderthal," yells Danny, flailing his arms and nearly catching Steve in the nose.

They somehow make it up to the bedroom without further mishap, and Steve gently lowers his still grumbling burden onto the bed. As he straightens, Danny catches the edge of his shirt and tugs.

"Come here," he says, pulling Steve awkwardly on top of him. "And listen."

"What?" asks Steve, pulling back a little to look down at his partner.

"You are an idiot," says Danny fondly, then reaches up and pulls Steve's head down so that his lips are touching Steve's ear.

"There was a guy, an important one," he whispers while sliding one of his hands down to Steve's backside and squeezing lightly.

Steve moans and bucks against Danny. "Seriously," he asks quietly. "You're telling me _now_?"

Danny ignores him.

"This important guy has cancer, okay, and it's bad. It's everywhere, and treatments aren't helping, and he's not a guy that can die without there being... repercussions. So they grab me, and I've got to say, it takes a couple of days before I admit I can do anything, and a couple of weeks before they convince me I should, and I finally give up because... because I want to come home, but also, because this guy, he's not a bad guy, he's got a family, and maybe I can help. I've never done a disease before though."

Danny pauses, breath skittering as Steve slips a hand between them, rubbing at Danny through the thin cotton of his boxers.

"Jesus, Steve," he moans, and Steve grins against his shoulder.

"Just keeping up appearances," he says, because he is nothing if not a great multi-tasker.

"Right," pants Danny, moving back to Steve's ear, but this time he pulls the lobe into his mouth, gently suckling it and nipping at it with his teeth, before letting go and moving down to suck hard against the soft skin beneath.

"Oh... okay, okay," says Steve, stilling his hand. "God, you should tell me all your stories this way."

"I don't think we'd survive," murmurs Danny, trying to regain his train of thought. "Anyway... I start to heal him, but it's not as easy as an injury. There's _years_ of damage, there's-- it's like a force, almost, working against me, and the aftershocks... they're not pretty."

Steve closes his eyes, thinking about Danny suffering alone, without anyone to help him through the worst of the reactions. Without Steve to help him.

"Shut up," says Danny even though Steve hasn't said anything. "I can feel you being stupid."

Steve huffs out a laugh against Danny's collarbone, and even though it was involuntary, the smaller man still squirms a little at the sensation of Steve's breath, hot against his skin.

"Alright, I want to finish so we can _finish_. Basically, it takes a little while to get rid of all the cancer, and an unfortunate side effect for me is not being able to hold anything down. Hence the weight loss. But I eventually get it all-- his results come back clear, and as a thank you, they put me under again and leave me on your porch. The bastards."

Steve is quiet for a minute, then says: "what if it comes back? What if-- what if someone else 'important' gets sick? What then, Danny?"

"Steve, come on," says Danny. "There's no point to those kind of questions."

"Fuck," says Steve.

"Yeah."

Steve rolls off of Danny with a sigh.

"I'm suddenly out of the mood," he says apologetically.

"Understandable," says Danny, "but, babe-- this is your only chance to ask me about this. I'm not going to talk about it again."

Steve thinks about it, wondering what to ask, whether it will make any difference. Finally he turns towards his partner.

"Were you... I dreamed about you."

"Yeah?" Danny smiles at him. "I dreamed about you, too."

Steve waits but when Danny doesn't say anything else, he rolls away and sits up on the edge of the bed. It's stupid, he knows, to feel disappointed by this. Now that Danny is back and safe (for now), it shouldn't matter whether the dreams were real or just a figment created by his desperate mind.

He feels his partner moving behind him, sliding his arms around Steve so that Danny's chest is pressed tightly to Steve's back, and holding on tight.

"Just so you know," Danny says slowly. "I do expect you to replace that bottle of whiskey, eventually."

Steve turns in his arms until they are facing each other. It doesn't occur to Steve until he sees his uncertain expression that even Danny had not known if the dreams were real or not.

"Is there anything you can't do?" says Steve.

"I hope so," replies Danny. "I really, really hope so."


End file.
